It is written upon her heart,
Battle scar grey, it's colour,
Deep within cells vibrant red,
The enigma of his dishonour.
Scattered in sheets of heart,
Pages blazed with his conceit,
shattering the fragile hourglass,
That brings on her defeat.
I paying price of burden,
walk in knowledge there of
receiving wound of his sword,
knowing she could never love.
This has a sad note to it, I like to think we can all love again, even if we bear many scars of love's heartbreak! We owe to ourselves to try.... do we not? Great write though.... HG xx
Boldly daring to enter there nonetheless. Yes, the wounded are the hardest to love, but to heal those wounds is its own reward. A grand piece G. t x
Sad poem Geoff, I sometimes think the same way. I wonder if I could really love someone or someone could really love me. I think I am very complicated at times. Excellent poem.
Adeep-rooted write, Good Sir, and a FINE WORK, INDEED! ''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''FJR
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fear of love needs to be overcome. An excellent write Geoff. All the best, Diane